Hoarding Woes: Empty Spaces

The Team, down to one team member now, reported amazing successes at my mom’s house. He sent some pictures that are helpful to highlight the Team’s efforts and what was.

This empty space in a corner of the basement is the laundry room/storage, looking toward the stairs and the octopus furnace. What I want you to look at is the railing for the stairs. My mom filled up this room to such a degree that she could not reach the washer and dryer. How much? Envision the space filled floor to ceiling to such a degree that only about one foot of space separate that upper beam above the railing and the top of the stuff. That room was full of clothing stacked in never ending piles. A drain pipe in that room backed up to completely soak all clothing to a depth of four feet. The stuff spread out to the right and up into the furnace. Amazingly in a box, at the base of the furnace was a paper bag with baby pictures of me...ones I had never seen before. Some how they escaped the water damage. Of course, the stairs, my mom's exit route, was covered by a foot or more of cascading, slippery stuff. SwittersB

My dad tried to lend order to his stuff and built shelving in every direction the floor was not already consumed by my mom’s acquisitions. 

A portion of the shelving from the basement. If they weren't covered in mildew, they certainly are impregnated with a terrible smell.

The openings afford realtors, inspectors, prospective buyers room to see the condition of the poor home. The home requires a lot of work. It is an excellent area, but alas, the market and neglect are flashing $$$ signs now. We meet with a realtor tomorrow morning to formulate a plan to sell and settle the massive debts. Great work Team!!!

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I visited my aunt this afternoon. There are assorted ways to look at this. I could attempt, I say attempt, to be clinical and take in the mental twists and turns of dementia. Or, I could be overwhelmed by the sadness of it all. I am somewhere at any given moment between those two shoulders of the road. I stare straight ahead and think about dignity, respect and somewhere, somehow spirits are watching me. I know, I know. But, this is a test in life. I know not if that little girl knows in some far corner of her mind if I am there, respectful or attentive. I believe, I want to believe, she does.

Today was a stressful day for my aunt. Yes, there was the muddled mess of dead sisters, including my mom today, that were at her home. But, the most obviously stressful concern for my aunt was her inability to learn where her husband, Felix, was at. He has been missing for month and she cannot 'believe he would abandon' her. 'He isn't hunting, he isn't fishing at the lake.' Then she sobs. I have mentioned this before. I dare not set her straight for fear of the outcome. I have said he is watching over her and loves her, but it doesn't seem to connect her to the reality. SwittersB

Today, a neighbor of my aunt’s, her gardner of sorts, brought some flowers and was visiting when I arrived. In the midst of the visit, the gardner mentions a neighbor lady’s estate sale. He had told my aunt about a month ago of the lady’s passing. Of course, she had forgotten. Aware that my aunt couldn’t grasp the need for an estate sale for the neighbor lady, the gardner decided to clarify that the neighbor lady had died. A lightning bolt hit my aunt’s chest. She clutched her chest as if hearing for the first time that her dear friend had died. Her response, clarified for me, that I was not going to further clear up where my aunt’s husband was, nor her three dead sisters.

 

 

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